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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25107781">gay vibes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/249b_east_35th/pseuds/249b_east_35th'>249b_east_35th</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daria (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Friends to Lovers, Trope Bingo Round 14, useless bisexuals</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:20:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25107781</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/249b_east_35th/pseuds/249b_east_35th</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Trope Bingo fill for Friends to Lovers square.<br/>Daria and Jane negotiate new developments in their relationship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jane Lane/Daria Morgendorffer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trope Bingo: Round Fourteen</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>gay vibes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I can see the headline now. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Suburban Axe Massacre; Scientists Blame Heatwave and Overbearing Parents.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not as snappy as your usual work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me stick my head in the freezer and I’ll improve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No can do. It’s been turned into an art installation.” Jane yawns. “You should come in."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know if I get wet, I'll melt."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The inflatable pool is tiny and still sticky from the summer that Trent and Jesse filled it with beer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jane is in a bright red bikini. Colourful swirls of ink sprawl across her thigh, acquired somewhere in the middle of her brief flirtations with, in no particular order, cubism, veganism, and a French exchange student named Jean Paul.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Daria sits, knees drawn to her chest. Her jacket is discarded; her t-shirt clings to her sweaty skin like armour. Her notebook and pen lie beside her jacket. They’re a week into the exercise in masochism that is returning to Lawndale for summer break and her muse seems to have been left in Boston. Everything Daria’s written since being back has been… uninspired. Melody Powers has been put back in retirement after she spent her latest story more concerned with the curve of her arch nemesis’ lips than the nuke about to land on American soil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could talk about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They can’t talk about it, because that would mean remembering it as more than just the taste of too many vodkas and Coke and red lipstick, and the smell of sweat and conditioner and paint on Daria’s pillow, still breathing in it even when Jane’s back in her own room, faint snoring filtering through paper thin walls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be the emotionally mature thing to do. We can’t have that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jane yawns again, stretching, catlike, propping Lolita-esque sunglasses on her forehead. “It wasn’t the worst thing in the world.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“High praise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I liked it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Anyway, wouldn’t you agree that a lesbian fling is essential for all good artists?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think this would be classified as a bisexual fling," Daria mumbled. She doesn’t say what she’s thinking. That when all is said and done, they still have to go back to their shitty college apartment, figure out how they’ve shifted in their once comfortable orbit around one another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Details.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you saying you want to do it again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t mind.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright then.” Daria lies on her back, stretches out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jane’s hand, wet and cool, finds hers. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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